draped
its silken folds above the table, depending from candelabra in which
"red, white, and blue" wax lights were burning.

Only the initiated can know what such an American Thanksgiving dinner
as that given in this public entertainment in Germany must mean to the
painstaking ladies, who need to direct every detail in contravention
of the established customs of the country. Turkey was forthcoming, but
cranberries were sought far and wide in vain, until Dresden at last
sent an imitation of the American berry, to keep it company. Mince
pies were regarded as essential to the feast. As pies are here
unknown, the pie-plates must be made to order after repeated and
untold minuteness of direction to the astonished tinman. The ordinary
kitchen ranges of Germany are without ovens, and all cake and pastry,
as well as bread, must emerge from the baker's oven. So to the shop of
the baker two ladies repaired, to mix with their own hands the pastry
and to prepare the mince-meat, graciously declining the yeast and
eggs offered them for the purpose. The delicious results justified in
practical proof the tireless endeavor for a real home-like American
dinner. Our German friends laughed at the "dry banquet" where only
lemonade and coffee kept the viands company, but right good cheer was
not wanting. Before the guests rose from table, the pastor read
letters of regret from Minister Pendleton (absent in affliction) and
others, and proposed the health of the President of the United States
and of Mrs. Cleveland, who, as Miss Folsom, shared in the Berlin
festivities of Americans at Thanksgiving the year before. The toast
which followed--to the aged Emperor William--was most cordially
responded to by a member of the Empress's household, Count Bernsdorff,
endeared to many in both hemispheres by his active interest in
whatsoever things are true and of good report. Rare music was
discoursed at intervals, from a band in the gallery, alternating with
amateur performers on the violin and piano, from under the German and
American flags intertwined at the opposite end of the handsome hall.
The good name of American students of music in Berlin was well
deserved, judging from their contributions to the enjoyment of this
occasion. The evening's programme closed with our national airs in
grand chorus, cheering and inspiring all. To some hearts the dear
melody of "The Suwanee River," which afterwards floated out on the
evening air of the busy city, mingl